


Any Heart (Strong Enough)

by lookninjas



Series: The Man Behind the Curtain (Ben!verse) [2]
Category: Glee
Genre: Brief descriptions of the beginning of an assault, General Angst, Multi, public humiliation (no worse than what we've seen onscreen, though) - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-25
Updated: 2016-02-25
Packaged: 2018-05-23 02:22:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6101622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lookninjas/pseuds/lookninjas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Of slow dances, last chances, and the importance of tradition.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Any Heart (Strong Enough)

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Deutsch available: [Any Heart (Strong Enough)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8956399) by [Klaineship](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Klaineship/pseuds/Klaineship)



> I originally intended for this to follow the same pattern as [Sadie Hawkins Day](http://lookninjas.livejournal.com/132455.html), alternating between the past and the present tense, but it didn't quite work the way I wanted it to, so I opted to focus primarily on McKinley's prom.

"We should dance," Blaine said, half-shouted, raising his voice so Tyler could hear him over the music, distorted through the school's crappy AV system and echoing oddly off the cafeteria walls. "Like, right now. To this song."

"'Love Hurts,' Blaine?" Tyler asked, and when Blaine glanced over at him, Tyler's eyebrow was arched up in that skeptical expression that kind of made Blaine's stomach feel like it was full of moths and butterflies and other... fluttery things. Tyler was grinning, too, grinning and skeptical at the same time, and the butterflies were seriously going overtime now and Tyler was going to say yes, Blaine could just feel it. "Really?"

"Of course 'Love Hurts,'" Blaine argued, but he was smiling too. "It's the ultimate high school slow dance song. This is a crucial part of the whole..." He waved his hand out at the room, the cheap dresses and the khaki pants and the too-big dress shirts worn with ugly ties. "The Sadie Hawkins experience."

Tyler was still grinning at him. "That sounds like a band name. Like, a really bad country band. With synthesizers and steel guitars."

Blaine almost thought about that for a few seconds, but this was way too important for him to get distracted, so he took a deep breath and pulled out his trump card. "Besides, 'Love Hurts' is always the last song of the evening, so if we don't dance to this one, we don't dance at all. I mean, if you wanted to dance; we don't have to, but I thought..."

Something in Tyler's smile softened; his hand reached out and snagged Blaine's. "Really, Blaine? You can't think of any other situations where you and I might get to dance with each other, apart from tonight? You know, like... Homecoming, Winter Formal... _Prom_ , maybe?"

Blaine just shrugged, although he was blushing furiously, his hand still locked with Tyler's. "Those are a really long time away, though. I mean, what if you get hit by a bus? Or I get hit by a bus? Or we both get hit by a bus? I'm just saying; you never know what could happen."

"Well, then." Tyler used his grip on Blaine's hand to tug him out to the dance floor, pulling him close enough that Blaine could wrap his free arm around Tyler's back, rest his head on Tyler's shoulder. "I guess we'd better make the best of this moment. Since it could be our last chance and everything."

"Yeah," Blaine whispered, breathing the word out into the shoulder of Tyler's dinner jacket. Tyler was still holding his hand, and his arm was draped around Blaine's waist, pulling him _so_ close, their chests brushing against each other. And they would dance like this again, he knew; they would dance like this over and over like Tyler had said -- _Homecoming, Winter Formal, Prom_. But just in case there was like a bus or something, Blaine closed his eyes, and pressed closer, and tried to memorize this moment.

_Make the best of it._

Someone started laughing next to them, and Blaine closed his eyes and tucked his head more firmly into Tyler's shoulder, and ignored them.

 

*

 

What's funny is that he's not that nervous.

Or, rather, that he _is_ nervous, but it's mostly for the right reasons.

He's nervous because it's the first slow song of the evening and people are coming together, coupling up on the dance floor, and Kurt is right next to him and he looks amazing and all those butterflies and moths and fluttery things are coming together in Blaine's stomach again, making his palms sweat and his voice catch in his chest. And yes, there's a part of him, the part that still has to turn off the radio whenever he hears Nazareth, that makes him feel sick to his stomach whenever there's a prom scene in a movie or a tv show, that's screaming at him to stop. To not even think about it. To not let it happen again. But it's surprisingly easy to ignore that part when the rest of him just wants to dance with Kurt Hummel so much that he can barely _breathe_ for it.

He thinks that's kind of a good sign.

"Did you --"

Kurt cuts him off like he didn't hear him; which, to be fair, he probably didn't. "Isn't it great that the prom's so inclusive this year?"

He sounds so hopeful, like he's still trying to convince Blaine to come even though Blaine's already here, and somehow the tone of his voice steals all of Blaine's words away. "There's someone for everyone," he offers, finally, and is just about to try again when Kurt keeps talking.

"Even if it's a lie." Kurt's eyes are on Santana and Karofsky; Karofsky is looking right back at Kurt, and Santana is looking at no one, not Karofsky, and _definitely_ not Brittany, who's dancing with another girl just a few feet away, like she's trying to prove something to someone.

"Yeah," Blaine says, and takes a deep breath, because if Brittany's dancing with a girl, then Blaine can dance with a boy, right? This is inclusive. This is not the Sadie Hawkins dance. "Hey, Kurt, I was wondering if you --"

But then Kurt is looking at Blaine, right at him, and the question dies in Blaine's throat.

And this should be so easy, since Kurt already asked him to prom, and he's so excited about this, and Blaine is relatively confident that Kurt will say yes. But Blaine is suddenly tongue-tied, not because he doesn't want this, but because he wants it so badly and he doesn't know what to do about that.

"Yes, Blaine?" Kurt asks, his voice quiet, still so hopeful.

"I just..." Blaine reaches out to grab Kurt's hand, since it seemed to help him the last time he found himself in this predicament. Someone snickers behind him; he ignores them. "You look _so_ amazing, and I know I maybe wasn't as enthusiastic about the ensemble as I should have been at first, but it really is fantastic, and I --"

"Blaine, you don't have to apologize," Kurt says, looking at him with worried eyes. "Honestly, if anyone's sorry, it's me. I know how hard it was for you to just come here, and I shouldn't have pushed you like that, and --"

"I'm glad you pushed me," Blaine says, and takes Kurt's other hand, because clearly one is not enough right now. He needs both of Kurt's hands, and the rest of him too. He needs everything he can get. "I'm glad I'm here, with you, and I just -- I just wanted to know if you would -- If you wanted to --"

Rachel belts out the last _Don't come back at all_ , holding the final note for what seems like forever, and Blaine feels his face falling. "I just talked through the end of the song," he finishes, miserably, his shoulders slumping. "Didn't I?"

Kurt smiles at him, warm and fond and sweet, and twines his fingers with Blaine's. "Were you... Were you trying to ask me to dance?"

Blaine bites his lip and stares down at his shoes. "Yeah," he sighs. "Yeah, I kind of... Still not that good at this whole romance thing, I guess."

"Actually, I think you're doing pretty well," Kurt says, squeezing Blaine's hands. "Anyway, don't worry about it. It's early. We'll just... dance to the next one. Unless Puck actually does sing 'Love Hurts' for his second number." Kurt gives a theatrical shudder. "Seriously, that song. It's such a cliche."

"Yeah," Blaine says, and he's trying not to let it show, how just the _name_ of that song makes his shoulders hunch in, but it must slip through anyway, because Kurt's got that look back on his face, like he's trying to read all of Blaine's secrets. Blaine has to struggle to muster up a smile for him. "But we'll still dance," he says. "Right?"

"We'll dance," Kurt promises, and for just a second, Blaine thinks that Kurt's going to kiss him -- maybe not a real kiss, but on the cheek or something. But then he hears the laughter again, louder than before, and the two of them break apart. Kurt looks over his shoulder, then down at his shoes, then finally back up at Blaine, his shoulders square and resolute. One of Kurt's hands reaches out to snag Blaine's. "Come on," he says. "Time to get you up on that stage."

Blaine lets himself be dragged through the crowd, and focuses on Kurt's hand in his, and tries not to think about anything else.

 

*

 

He follows Brittany off the stage and into a seething mass of New Directions gossip, everyone talking at once, arguing and pointing. The first thing Blaine does is look for Kurt, but he's nowhere to be found, which is extremely weird. He turns to Rachel, to ask if she knows, but there's suddenly a swirling cloud of blue chiffon and blonde hair standing in between the two of them, and suddenly all Kurt's dark references to Hurricane Quinn make absolute sense.

"Are you happy now, Rachel?" she demands, and she's not really that tall but she's still sort of towering over Rachel, and Blaine is about to step in before Mercedes grabs his arm and tugs him back, away from the pending catfight. "Is this what you wanted? To humiliate me in front of the entire school?"

"Quinn --" And it's weird how the look of startled sympathy on Rachel's face reminds Blaine of the way Kurt automatically softens towards anyone in pain, even when he's got no reason to do anything but hate them. "I didn't -- I would _never_ \--"

"Congratulations," Quinn says, bitterly. "I hope you enjoyed ruining my life." Then she's running out of the room, blue skirts swirling around her, whispers and laughter following in her wake. And as worried and confused as Blaine is, he can't help but appreciate that exit. It's the dress, really, the way the tiers of light blue chiffon just float as she runs. Hurricane Quinn, indeed.

He looks for Kurt again, just to share in the moment, but Kurt's still not there. And neither is Finn, Blaine realizes. Finn's gone, too.

"I'll... I'll talk to Quinn," Sam says, patting Rachel on the shoulder. "I think she just... I'll talk to her." He shuffles off through the crowd, and Rachel stares after him, and everyone stares at Rachel, and the people around them are still snickering quietly, and Blaine's not into gossip that much, but _still_ , this is pretty much killing him.

"Okay, seriously though," he whispers, leaning in to Mercedes. "What's going on? What did I _miss_? And where's Kurt?"

Mercedes pulls Blaine out of the group and back to the dance floor as Tina starts in on her solo number; Blaine's not positive, but he thinks she's doing the Cure. He spares just a moment to hope that no one makes her cry again, because _seriously_ , but then Mercedes has both hands on his shoulders, and he realizes that they're supposed to be dancing now. "Baby," she says, as Blaine's hands settle lightly on her waist, "what you are missing is about two years worth of serious drama. I don't think I would be nearly this happy to be single if I didn't have to watch those damn fools breaking up and making up and breaking up again every other week. It's enough to put a girl off love forever."

"Mercedes, you shouldn't give up on --" Blaine breaks off before he can really get going, because Mercedes is giving him that look, and he's not brave enough, not _Kurt_ enough, to defy it. "Heard it already?"

"Don't even get me started," she says, shaking her head. "But. I'll forgive you this time, if only because you and Kurt are stupid in love and it's obviously affecting your brains." Which reminds Blaine that he still doesn't know where Kurt is, and it's not like he doesn't love Mercedes, because he does, but he really should be dancing with his boyfriend. He's scanning the crowd again, looking for the flash of plaid or the studded blazer, when Mercedes cups his chin in her hand and pulls him back to face her. "And no, he's not back yet. He's... He's having a talk with Finn. In the parking lot."

Blaine draws his eyebrows together. "They're having a talk like they're _talking_ , or having a talk like --"

"Like Finn is getting his ass chewed out for starting a fistfight at prom and getting kicked out," Mercedes says, a little bit gleefully, and Blaine would chide her for enjoying this so much, but his jaw is currently about an inch off the floor.

"Wait," Blaine says. "He _what_? With _who_? And..." He blinks, a horrible thought coming to him. "Wait. If Finn's kicked out... I mean, Kurt wouldn't leave with him, right? He's coming back."

"Oh, Boo," Mercedes sighs, and pats Blaine on the cheek again. There's laughter from somewhere nearby, and Blaine can't stop scanning the crowd for Kurt. "Trust me, he'd never leave you behind. He'll be back."

Blaine takes a deep breath, and manages a smile for Mercedes. "Okay," he says. "Yeah, of course. Okay."

Mercedes just shakes her head. " _Stupid_ in love," she repeats, still smiling.

 

*

 

Kurt is still seething when they gather with the rest of New Directions to watch the coronation, color high in his cheeks, and it's hard for Blaine to even glance at the stage when Kurt is worked up like this. As much as he hates that Kurt's distracted -- Well. Kurt _does_ wear his anger remarkably well. Better even than Quinn.

"I honestly can't believe him," Kurt mutters, arms folded across his chest. "I mean, I suppose this explains why he thinks I'd be so quick to cheat on you, since he's so obviously incapable of making up his mind, but... And he actually thought I wouldn't tell my dad? Who does he think he's kidding? And even if I didn't, he'd confess in like a second; he's the worst liar ever, so why he thinks I'd get myself in trouble just so he could have thirty seconds of --"

"Hey, come on," Blaine says, reaching up to clasp one of Kurt's elbows, trying to tug his arms down away from his chest. "Prom's about joy, right? Not about drama. Whatever Finn did... Let it go. Let's just make the best of the time we've got and... you know. Enjoy ourselves. Together"

"Mmm," Kurt sighs, but he lets his arms uncross, lets Blaine's hand settle lightly around his wrist. He even smiles at Blaine, just a little bit. "I think I still owe you a dance, don't I?"

"At least one," Blaine says, as the candidates for king and queen take to the stage. "Maybe two. Or even three."

Kurt's smile spreads to cover more of his face. "Greedy," he teases, leaning a little closer to Blaine, their shoulders almost touching. And Blaine is listening -- he is always, always listening -- but for once, he doesn't hear any laughter.

It makes him kind of nervous, actually, but he rationalizes that everyone else is too consumed with the Prom Queen drama to actually care about him and Kurt. That, for a few seconds, at least, they can pass by unnoticed.

The principal seems weirdly excited that Karofsky wins Prom King, considering that Karofsky is a bully and an asshole and actually got _expelled_ at one point, and Blaine's hand tightens a little bit around Kurt's wrist. "Well," Kurt murmurs, chin high. "Score one for the closet, I guess."

"Yeah," Blaine says, finding Santana in the lineup. She's beaming, her eyes shining, and he can't help being a little glad that she's won, because he actually kind of likes her. She's done a lot for Kurt, even if there's like this whole other selfish motivation to her actions. Still, the King and Queen's dance afterwards is going to be all kinds of awkward, and Blaine's kind of wondering if maybe he shouldn't pull Kurt into a quiet corner so the two of them can just ignore the entire thing, when he realizes that the room has gone absolutely silent, and the nervousness he's been feeling morphs into full-on panic.

"Kurt Hummel," the principal says, sounding almost grim, and Blaine is suddenly caught up in the edges of the spotlight as it focuses directly on Kurt.

The girls on the stage are staring, dumbstruck, and Kurt is just standing there, the light washing out his skin and leaving him so pale and fragile and wide-eyed, and he's shaking. Kurt is shaking. And when it clicks together, when Blaine realizes what's just happened, what this school has _done_ , the reality of it all is like a physical blow.

He can't help but think of how it felt when the first guy pushed him down to the pavement that night, how it felt like he was falling in slow motion and he should have had all the time in the world to pull himself back up, catch his balance, somehow make everything stop and keep it all from happening. Except that, of course, it had barely taken a second for him to hit the pavement -- it felt slow, but it had really been fast, so fast. He could never have stopped it. He could never have saved himself. He was completely helpless.

It's been two years since that night. Nothing's really changed. He still can't stop this.

But when Kurt runs, Blaine chases after him, calling his name, because he's not going to make Kurt suffer alone. If all he can do is take the blows with him, then that's what he's going to do.

People laugh at him as he races out of the gym, but he ignores it. They were laughing that night, too. They never stop laughing, no matter who gets hurt, and as much as Blaine hates it, he's pretty much used to it by now.

He's got more important things to worry about, anyway.

 

*

 

It's almost a relief when Karofsky turns on his heel and flees, leaving Kurt alone on the dance floor.

It hurts, too, seeing the stunned, pained look in Kurt's wide eyes, seeing him stand there alone in the center of the floor, the spotlight still on him, highlighting his humiliation. It hurts a lot, actually, but at least this is something that Blaine can fix. In the hallway, he sat and listened and watched Kurt figure things out on his own, and he felt completely and utterly helpless the entire time. But he's not helpless anymore.

_They can't touch us,_ he thinks, and steps forward, holding out his hand. _They can't touch what we have._

"Excuse me," he says, just loud enough to be heard over the music and Kurt turns to look at him, relief flooding his face in a way that makes Blaine's breath catch in his throat. "I... May I have this dance?"

Kurt's mouth crooks up at the corners, that pleased, breathless smile that Blaine cherishes more than anything. "Yes," he says, his hand fitting neatly into Blaine's. "Yes, you may."

Blaine pulls him in close, their hands clasped together around the scepter. Kurt's ridiculous crown is slipping sideways a little bit, and he can't seem to stop looking around, both pleased and wary at the same time, but he laughs unexpectedly when Blaine twirls him out in a spin, a bright, beautiful sound. When Blaine tugs him back in again, Kurt's eyes are locked on Blaine's, and this time, he doesn't look away.

"Dancing Queen" isn't really suited for a slow dance, but Blaine sticks close to Kurt even when his arm is no longer wrapped around Kurt's waist, singing to him, clowning and making faces, and is rewarded by Kurt's smile, the fond, almost embarrassed expression on his face whenever Blaine pull him in for a dip or a twirl. When the balloons come down, Kurt's arms slip, briefly, around Blaine's back, and he breathes out a "Thank you," into Blaine's neck before pulling away again, to bat at a balloon and push his crown into place and laughs, still breathless, still safe.

 

*

 

Kurt smiles through the end of the song, smiles while their picture is being taken, is still smiling when they finally fall together at one of the tables in the far corner, the rest of New Directions crowding around and patting Kurt on the back, telling him that he's awesome, that they're proud, that he is _rocking_ that crown like the fierce diva he is. And Blaine smiles too, because Kurt is smiling and that's enough for him, really.

He smiles right up until the moment Puck takes the stage for the final number, picking out those first ascending notes with his guitar, and then the smile freezes on his face.

He's not sure why he's surprised. "Love Hurts" is always the last song of the night. The ultimate high school slow dance number.

Mike and Tina are the first to leave the table, slipping into the hallway, and Blaine's pretty sure they're not going to dance, but even if he was going to say something about it, he'd have a hard time fitting it past the lump in his throat. Then it's Sam and Mercedes, and (somewhat oddly) Quinn and Lauren, and Blaine watches Brittany leave her perch on Artie's lap to sit next to Santana, her head tipping down onto Santana's bare shoulder, and he stares at the pretty little tableau they make together because he's trying very, very hard not to think about certain things (like slow dancing and last chances and that moment when he and Tyler were standing together in the parking lot, right before Blaine felt a hand on his back shoving him forward), because if he thinks too much he'll fall apart entirely, and that's why Kurt has to tap him on the shoulder to get his attention.

When Blaine turns, he sees Kurt standing there with his hand extended, and it makes his breath catch in his throat. "I thought we weren't dancing to this one," he says, his voice coming out rough and croaking.

"It's traditional," Kurt says, unsmiling, his eyes wide and worried and fixed on Blaine. "'Love Hurts' is always the last slow dance of the evening. And, as monarch of this school, I feel it's my duty to uphold tradition, regardless of my own feelings on the subject." He tilts his head a little bit, still watching Blaine. "Although if you didn't want to, we could --"

"No, yeah," Blaine says, reaching out for Kurt's hand, and it's astonishing that Kurt is still strong enough to pull him to his feet, but at the same time, it's not a surprise at all. "I mean, it's... you know. Crucial part of the whole prom experience."

"Besides," Kurt says, passing his scepter to Rachel and tugging Blaine out onto the floor. He wraps one arm around Blaine's waist, pulling him close. "I still owe you a dance."

Their hands are still locked together, their chests brushing, and Blaine can't lay his head down on Kurt's shoulder, what with the studded epaulets and everything, but Kurt leans down enough to press their cheeks together, and really, that works too. "We had a dance," Blaine murmurs, closing his eyes and breathing in deeply, trying to memorize this moment.

"I owe you a _second_ dance," Kurt replies, stroking up and down Blaine's spine through the material of his rental tux. "The third is going to have to wait for later, I'm afraid."

"That's okay," Blaine says, just breathing the words out into Kurt's ear. "It's not like this is the only night we'll ever have to dance together. There's still next year. You know, Homecoming, Winter Formal..."

He can feel Kurt's smile curving against his skin. "Just don't get hit by a bus or anything."

And they still have to get across the parking lot when prom is over with, and Blaine knows that'll be nerve-wracking, that even with all of New Directions following them like the Secret Service, he'll be tense and twitching and looking over his shoulder the entire time. Then they'll have to go back to Kurt's house with the crown and the scepter, and there will be questions and Kurt's father will be furious; and when Blaine goes home in the morning, _his_ father will have questions and will be quietly furious in his own sharp, sarcastic way. And on Monday, Kurt will be back at school, alone, to face everyone who thought this was the funniest joke in the world, and when he and Blaine meet up for coffee after school, they will flinch every time they hear laughter, because the laughter never really stops.

But for now, they have this.

Blaine lets go of Kurt's hand and wraps both arms around his shoulders, clinging to him; Kurt's arms tighten around Blaine's waist. Kurt is taking deep, shuddering breaths, and Blaine's eyes sting with tears, so he closes them and just holds on to Kurt as tight as he can. "I hate this song," Kurt mutters, sniffling a little, and Blaine lets out a rough, shaky laugh.

If anyone else is laughing, he can't hear them, and that's enough for now.


End file.
